<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>When The Frost Fell by Shepard_Shakedown</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23523100">When The Frost Fell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shepard_Shakedown/pseuds/Shepard_Shakedown'>Shepard_Shakedown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Frostfall [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, F/F, F/M, Inquisitor (Dragon Age) is not the Herald of Andraste, M/M, Slow Burn, dead herald of andraste, the worlds slowest slowburn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:34:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23523100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shepard_Shakedown/pseuds/Shepard_Shakedown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you had to let the creature in dirt rot so flowers could bloom, but that was Ellana’s job. She was the flower, and Efra was the creature. At least that was how it was supposed to be.<br/>So why was Efra burying her? Why was she adding yet another white ribbon to the Vehnadal tree?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>fem inquisitor/fem hawke, inquisitor/hawke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Frostfall [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prelude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is dedicated to my mother. I know you would prefer an original work from me, but I hope you can enjoy this regardless.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She was only supposed to watch the peace talks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Watch them, Ellana, take notes but don't get involved.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So much for running at the first sign of danger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellana had never been any good at following a plan, but this blew it out of the water. Trying to save the Divine, really? </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> was her plan? Gods, if Efra could see her now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Were the creators scorning her from their prison in the beyond? Did they hate her for becoming an unwilling prophet for a human god? It would be just her luck that her current predicament was brought on by them. As if it was her fault that the humans had raised her up; as if she had wanted this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chains on her wrists clanked against the stone wall, a backdrop to the symphony of her screams. Her back arched off the wall with the pain of another brand searing into her skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>is their prophet." A deep voice rumbled through her prison, interrupting her torturer. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the girl that defied me? That stole my prize?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The monster of a man in front of her sneered. His eyes shone with the familiar gleam of red lyrium. He had been human once, though what was left barely resembled one. He looked the part of a host, the lyrium beneath his skin pushing through, like the larvae of a wasp in a caterpillar. Like with the caterpillar, the lyrium would eventually consume him completely, first through the madness that came to all the blight touched. Then it would take his body, consuming his flesh and replacing it with red crystal. Like the last person afflicted by the red lyrium’s madness, it would make a grim idol of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least, she hoped it would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the look of him, he should have already been dead. His body was twisted and grotesque, his skin pussed and twisted around the shards that had already poked through. His limbs were stretched in ways that shouldn’t have been possible, too long and disproportionate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellana flinched as he reached for her, his skeletal hand ripping into her hair and forcing her head up to look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You cannot begin to understand what you have stolen from me.” He hissed. "You will give what is mine back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>elf</span>
  </em>
  <span>." The stench of rotting meat washed over her face, making her gag as he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'S kinda attached." She slurred back at him. She managed to lace her tone with sarcasm in spite of the fear that coursed through her. "Sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He slammed her head back against the wall. Her vision blurred with the impact. "Then, I will tear it from your corpse."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>[Author note] </p><p>This is a project quite close to my heart. I have so very many things planned for it. I tried and failed to find an AU in which the cornerstone was a catastrophically failed mission where the Herald of Andraste was gone for good, no anchor, no body, nada, so I chose to write it myself. I'm rather excited to be posting it at all.</p><p>Much of the setting is original. At least the early setting is. Chapters 1 and 2, and most of 3 are not set in canon area's. The characters that appear in chapters 1-3 are entirely original (save for one brief mention of Varric and two mentions of Josephine). I want to be entirely upfront that this fic is about non-canon events. Some canon characters, namely Solas, may not be entirely in character with the games or books as I'm characterizing them based off of the doomed timeline in Redcliffe. </p><p>I sincerely hope you will enjoy When The Frost Fell, and would love to hear your thoughts as the story progresses.</p><p>Lots of love,<br/>Avery</p><p>Ps. All art is by me. I'll be uploading maps of unfamiliar area's as the story progresses.</p><p>full-sized image here-&gt; https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/when-the-frost-fell-cover-838067298?ga_submit_new=10%3A1587017508</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. In Dread We Looked Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Her place among the ruins was in the centre, where the cracked ceiling of the cave poured sunlight into the halls beneath. She’d removed every trace of the darkspawn from it and draped the ceiling with memories. Each tapestry told a story she’d heard at least once before; of the golden halla, of her first hunt, and their pilgrimage across the free marches. New and old mixed in no order to weave a history each of her people knew by heart. Where the fabric was thickest, when the tapestries turned to pillows and blankets, she was safe.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere beneath the earth where she'd buried her father, Efra had left something important behind. Her hands in the dirt, burying her heart with him beneath the white oak tree. Life would go on after, but a piece of her would always remain with him, deep within the Silverglass ruins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clan- her clan, hadn't truly understood what happened. She only barely understood what happened, and why the wards that kept the darkspawn out of the ruins failed. Knowing why they failed didn't bring him back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her clan had mourned Izaya. They'd grieved him like she had, deep and messy and drawn out. Though her tears had dried early, the sorrow of his loss hadn't. It was masked, with notes and scribbles, and her growing obsession with the ruins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clan had moved on. They could move on, away from Izaya's ruins and back to roaming the Free Marches. But she couldn't help but stand still. Each step away from the ruins felt like a betrayal of everything he'd dreamed of. She had one foot stuck in the dark halls of the Silverglass ruins where he'd died and the other begging for the light of her people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten years had dulled the pain. But the piece was still buried, calling her back to the ruins she'd grown up in and without that piece- without her father, her ties to her clan withered, and she made her choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes leaving was the better option. Sometimes you had to let the creature in the dirt rot so flowers could bloom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her father had never told her why he'd chosen to name the ruin Silverglass. The mirror in its garden had never seemed that important to her. What she did know was that the ruin was elven. Even beneath the vandalism the darkspawn had left behind, the history remained. The gods were carved into stone and etched into the walls, with a thousand other mysteries her people had left behind. The darkspawn had long been removed, and the wards that kept them out relaid, ready for her when she returned, ten years later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her place among the ruins was in the centre, where the cracked ceiling of the cave poured sunlight into the halls beneath. She'd removed every trace of the darkspawn from it and draped the ceiling with memories. Each tapestry told a story she'd heard at least once before: of the golden halla, of her first hunt, and their pilgrimage across the free marches. New and old mixed in no order to weave a history each of her people knew by heart. Where the fabric was thickest - when the tapestries turned to pillows and blankets - she was safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she ignored it, mostly. She watched it as it watched her, following her around the ruins. It didn't always let her see it. The only trace of its presence was the feeling that all spirits had, hair raising on the back of your neck and faint tingle, and it was always there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had become bolder the longer she stayed in the ruins. It shifted from travelling in shadows, to underfoot in the months she'd been there. Like it was now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you even want?" Efra grumbled, stepping over the spirit to dump supplies on her table. "You don't even have arms to help with the groceries."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The snake lifted its head off the floor to look at her and tilted it to the side, watching her with lidless eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Way needs arms?" It didn't speak so much as it put words in her head with a voice like a child's.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They'd certainly help." She pushed her sleeves up to her elbows before sorting her things on the table. It wasn't much, a few skeins of yarn, a bag of flour, berries and fruit from the forest outside, some rabbits from a snare. It was enough to stop Rosaline, the tavern keeper in the nearby village, from complaining for a while. At least about the state of her clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had some time until winter forced her to change her appearance. For now, it didn't matter that her sweater had enough holes to expose the brown skin beneath, or that she'd cut her dark hair just short enough that the uneven strands were a pain to tie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Way, as the spirit called itself, wound its way up the table leg, lifting their head like a periscope and tilting it to the side. "Way needs arms?" it repeated. Its body shimmered a bit, then changed, four nubby little limbs growing out of it like a lizard. "Way has arms," It declared, proud as it coiled around an apple. It's transparent arms pawed at the fruit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra let out an amused breath. "Way has arms," she repeated. She shook her head, taking the apple from Way and biting into it. She leaned against the table watching Way nudge her food into a neater pile. "You didn't answer my question from before."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Way paused. "Question?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you want, Way?" Efra looked away, taking another bite of the apple.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Way shows the way," the spirit replied. "Sometimes you show Way the way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That simple, huh?" The spirit watched her. "Maybe you'd be better off helping Ellana, someone that actually needs guidance. She's some Herald of Andraste or something. I bet she hates it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hates? Way stays here with the way of ways." The snake nodded. "Way promised."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You promised?" Efra raised a brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Watch her when I'm gone, Way. One day she'll grow into my shoes, but until then, she'll need guidance." Way's voice shifted, mimicking her father's voice. "Way promised."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice caught on the words in her throat and a hollow echo of a feeling she couldn't quite name. "Dad left you too then." She whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dad? Yes. Scout, guide, lead. Way existed after."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He created you?" She offered the spirit a hand, letting it coil around her wrist and up her arm over the spiralling runes she'd carved into her skin with black ink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Way did not leave when winter came. Instead, the spirit became a constant accessory, coiled up under her scarf. It made the long winter trek into Thillucaster easy, showing her every safe path to the village where she always bought her supplies. While Way rarely spoke, Efra found it a comfort, as she coaxed information from Rosaline. It, like her, hung on every rumour she gathered about the war and Ellana, her former clanmate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clan Lavellan was stuck up in Wycome for the time being, and word from them was rare and far between. Ellana was easiest to follow, being Andraste's Herald and all. She was exactly the same as Efra remembered, bubbly, sweet, and beloved. She'd never had a problem winning hearts. The problem was that Ellana tended to follow impulse like it was a map. She'd never had much patience or planning sense. She did what her heart told her, and more often than not, it got her into trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why Deshanna had sent her to Haven in the first place was a mystery to Efra. Freia would have been a better choice, even if he lacked initiative. He'd never choose to leave his sister for that long, but Deshanna could have ordered it. She should have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hadn't heard much of anything about Ellana for weeks, and the Inquisition had been abnormally quiet. What she had heard was old news that didn't leave much space for hope. Ellana had gone to Redcliffe for negotiations, but she'd never left. It was tempting, even after their falling out, to abandon the Silverglass ruins to find her. Despite everything, Ellana had been like a sister once. Instead, she wrote, first a letter to Freia, then to the Inquisition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freia,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I know it's been years since we spoke, but now feels like the right time to break the silence between us. In all these years I haven't changed much. I've kept watch from, well, Silverglass. Wycome seems... manageable. I'd need to know more about it to voice an opinion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You know I wouldn't write without reason. Have you heard from Ellie? Last I heard she'd run off to Redcliffe to negotiate with mages. I assume you know the humans have made her into some sort of prophet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Please,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ps. I'm fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inquisition,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I presume Ellana hasn't spoken of me, as it's been quite some time since she and I last spoke, but I do still care about her as someone would a sister. I have my worries about Ellie and the chaos she tends to bring with her and I hope she is doing well with you. I've always known her to be impulsive and reckless, and I worry that the absence of news from your northern scouts as well as from my clan in Wycome, that the worst has happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can understand why you'd claim her as a Herald of Andraste. Seeing the light of the breach, I know she shone brighter. I only ask that you have her write back, or at least sign the page, so I can bury my worries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hope to hear back soon,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra Feron</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn't expect a response from either, but her next visit with Way to the village brought them anyway. Freia's was scrawled on weathered scrap of parchment, and the Inquisition's on crisp letter paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I should have known you've been keeping an eye on us, Ef. The clan's situation is weird. The Shems are being Shems. But there's something more off about them than usual. There's a sickness in their water. Could be cholera, might be something worse. We've been bringing fresh water into the city to see if it helps, but we can only carry so much. Without finding the source and things are only going to get worse. I'm not used to finding sickness in underground water, and I want it dealt with before it reaches the clan. Deshanna has been glued to Keeper Izaya's work since we discovered the sickness looking for any sort of cure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We haven't heard any word from El, either. She mentioned in her last letter that she was planning to convince Redcliffe's mages to join them and that there was "weird Tevinter magic" involved. You're the only mage from our clan with any possibility of figuring out what she meant by that.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If things keep going bad in Wycome, I'm sending Rena to join you in the ruins, just to keep her out of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>F-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ps. I'll let you know if I learn more about El-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dear Miss Feron,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I've heard quite a bit about you from Miss Lavellan. She speaks very highly of you. I'll be sure to pass your message along to her when she returns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sincerely,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ambassador Josephine Montilyet</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~*~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a restlessness that came in with the Inquisition's response, and Freia's had done little to ease it. If anything, his letter had caused more problems. It was only a matter of time before Wycome boiled over. So, Efra moved into the tavern, temporarily, until Freia and his sister eventually uprooted her self-imposed isolation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Way had more patience than she did. The spirit spent most of its time coiled under her scarf as she did whatever she could to keep her mind off of Wycome and Ellana. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing seemed to work. They were always in the back of her mind, no matter what she did. A week of pacing Rosaline's bar led her to her lowest point, where she was desperate enough to turn to Rosaline's bookshelf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was entirely populated by the worst raunchy fiction Thedas had to offer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She paced, reading the least awful thing on the shelf. It wasn't the worst thing she'd ever read, the book she'd picked up prior held that title, but the words didn't stick the way they were supposed to. Thoughts of Ellana and Freia kept invading her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was rare that Freia let himself get pulled into trouble, at least when she and Ellana weren't dragging him into it. The three of them used to be inseparable when she was still with the clan. Ellana's ideas always pulled Freia and herself in as muscle and strategy. It was when they didn't have a plan that things fell apart, and Efra was the only one that planned anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scowled, dropping the book onto the table along with the rest of her, draping herself across it dramatically. Way squirmed out from beneath Efra's shoulders, a small noise of complaint sounding in the back of her mind. She ignored it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Rosaline, are you sure you don't have anything else?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rosaline rolled her eyes from across the bar. "Dunno why you keep askin'. You've seen my bookshelf, Miss Feron," she leaned on the counter, resting her face in her hands. Efra could hear the playful edge of Rosaline's voice as she said her name. "Why are you stickin' around anyway? Usually you're off the same day. Somethin' happen?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Something?" Efra stared at the ceiling before pulling the book over her face. "Yeah, something like that. I'm waiting."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Obviously." Rosaline snorted. "Haven't said what for. Is it another letter?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra pushed herself off the table, returning to the circuit she was pacing around the tavern with the book back in hand. Her eyes scanned the page for where she'd left off. "The guardsman brought his hand up to the knight commander's face. ‘I know we shouldn't, but-’ he pressed his lips to the knight commander's, and I, Efra, began gagging because what follows is, perhaps, the worst sex scene I've ever read." She ran a hand through her hair checking the spine of the book again. "I'm not sure this Varric Tethras understands human anatomy. Or really any anatomy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rosaline giggled. "I thought it was fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I would rather-" The slamming of the tavern door against the wood siding cut Efra's sentence short, drawing her attention to the shaking girl in the doorway. Efra closed the book, abandoning it on the nearest surface. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Rena?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rena stepped forward slowly at first, her pace quickly picking up into a run. The fear in her eyes melted into tears when she collided with Efra, wrapping her arms around her waist like a lifeline. Efra's hands rested on her shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hadn't changed since Efra had seen her last. She had the same warm brown skin as her brother and the same mess of black curls. Though hers had always been longer than his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was her eyes that showed the most resemblance to Freia. They were the same deep green his were - a family trait. Though the terror currently in them wasn't something she'd ever seen in Freia's. His fear had always shown itself through a mask of anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Th- th-" Rena swallowed a breath. She sniffled, pulling away from Efra, but didn't let go. "Freia said I had to run. There were shems on the road, they..." she trailed off, shaking her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra cursed under her breath. Her hands moved to her own waist, unlacing the coin purse and slamming it onto the table beside the stupid book. She gripped Rena's wrist, half dragging the girl up to her room, letting go only to slam the door shut behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We have to go back!" Rena pulled at her shirt again. "He-!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will," Efra shrugged her off, digging under her bed for her bag. "But you're not."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But-" Rena protested as Efra pulled her bag over her shoulders. Efra tightened the straps of the bag before returning her hand to the void. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Listen, Rena. If Frei is still out there, I am going to drag his ass back, but I need you to follow my instructions."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gripped the hilt of a blade, the weight of it comfortable as she pulled the longsword free. She slid it from its sheath, checking the blade briefly before strapping it to her back. Way shifted out of her way as she fastened buckles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rena stared at Efra as she pulled Way out from beneath her scarf to drape the spirit around Rena's neck. She tensed under the spirit's touch.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra could feel Way's protest as a hum vibrated down the back of her spine. "Don't give me that, Way. Just take Rena home — to our home," she added hastily, winding her scarf over the spirit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rena looked more than a little confused, the alarm on her face growing as Way peeked its head above the fabric. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where Efra go?" The spirit asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"To Freia," Efra answered, checking over Rena.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Way's body stretched up. Its head pressed into Efra's hand, an impression of a path forming in her mind. "Freia this way." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra murmured a thanks to Way as the spirit settled under the scarf, turning her attention back to Rena. She gripped Rena's shoulders, catching her gaze. "I need you to listen to Way. The spirit will lead you to my home, ok? It won't hurt you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Freia said-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tossed her pack over her shoulder. "Frei wants you safe, and my house is as safe as it gets. The spirit around your neck will show you the safest way. It's its nature. I promise it won't hurt you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rena's hand was cold in her own as they left Rosaline's tavern. Efra's usual goodbye to Rosaline was absent as Rena struggled to keep up with her pace. It was tempting to just carry the girl, but that was a waste of energy that could be better spent finding her brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freia had come from the east, north of Silverglass. The path Way wanted her to follow was similar to the way home. Only Efra had to turn left at the fork in the road instead of leaving the path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"These men that stopped Freia, do you know who they were?" They still had some time before they reached the fork. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The shems? Freia said they came from the north.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They have Freia's accent?" She caught Rena as she stumbled over a branch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't- They didn't sound Nevarran." Rena shook her head. "They sound kinda like you when you get mad at Frei."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra let out a string of curses. "Of course, they're fucking Tevinter bastards." She let go of Rena as the fork in the road grew nearer. "Follow Way. I'll be there soon."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I will be attempting to update on Saturdays. Though I do have problems with update consistency. As it stands Chapter two "We Were Wretched Things" will be up next Sat.<br/>lots of love yall<br/>-Avery</p><p>full-sized art here -&gt; https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/map-of-thedas-some-annotations-836864261?ga_submit_new=10%3A1587017240&amp;ga_type=edit&amp;ga_changes=1</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. We Were Wretched Things</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>She hissed twisting the sword. She held the mage tight and pushed the blade out, his spine acting as a lever as she tore through the left side of his waist. His scream cut through the forest like a knife, nearly drowning the words that followed. "No god will grant you mercy in death, nor will I in life."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Wispwoods that Way had sent her into were as hostile as forests got. It had been haunted before the breach, often echoing reflections of the fade, and terrifying travellers that passed through it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, not only were the echoes still there, more spirits and demons had joined them. Dozens of them poured in through rifts hidden within the trees. Most were passive enough to let her pass. Others, the ones from the rifts, attacked anything in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The echoes weren't the only things strange in the Wispwoods. When spring came, so did the sylvians, the spirits trapped in trees waking as the frost faded. It was better to avoid them completely, even if it meant adding a day to your journey. For once, the cold of winter was a mercy. With it, the trees, and even the sylvians, were dormant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra had her doubts about Way's instructions. The path she'd been following was long left behind, and there was no trace of Rena to guide her to Freia. Though, Way had never lied to her before, and there was little else she could do but trust it. It wasn't like she had a better way to find Freia in the sprawling forest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rena's tracks, when she crossed them, led further north than Way's map. It made sense. Knowing Freia, he would have tried to lead them away from his sister and further east into the wood where the sylvians were most plentiful. The winter may have put them to sleep, but they could still be woken with enough magic or fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods, he better not have started a fire. Sylvians she could handle, sylvians on fire was another matter altogether. Efra could only imagine the kind of destruction he'd be capable of if he'd been born a mage. Thankfully he was not one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard the bickering of the Tevinter men before she saw them. There were three voices, arguing too loudly for the Wispwoods. They'd gotten lucky in avoiding the worst the woods offered, but sound carried. It was only a matter of time before they attracted demons. They'd already managed to attract her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were scouts from the looks of them, too lightly packed to be alone. Whatever force they preceded had to have been large to send three. Or maybe they weren't scouts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hadn't been especially quiet in her approach. If even one bothered to look in her direction, she'd be easy to spot and yet they continued to bicker over a mound of snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm telling you, the damn knife-ear is dead." The first threw his hands in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I'm telling you to make sure." The second stood shuffling in place above the mound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's stopping you from doing it?" The third spoke up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The fucking elf stabbed me. I'm not getting stabbed again if he's not dead." The second complained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you think I want to be stabbed?" The first snapped back. "Ask him!" He jabbed a finger towards the third man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her sword was a familiar weight in her hand as she pulled it free of its sheath. Her breaths were steady as she spun the longsword in a fluid movement in front of her, carving the circle for the runes she was tracing with her other hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her footing was rooted in place as frost formed across the steel blade and up her arm. The air shuddered as the third scout turned, but his shout never breached it. His head impaled on a spire of ice as the runes activated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second's life ended with a sweep of steel. The sharp silver edge painted a new red line in the snow, his head far removed from the rest of his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first was more difficult. He'd had time to react, to dodge her next attack and cast his own ward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Should have known there'd be more of you. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>rattus</span>
  </em>
  <span> always move in packs." He spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn't bother replying, spinning another spell into existence with the tip of her blade. She didn't bother tracing the runes this time. It was stable enough without them, and she didn't need power. She let the shifting ball of ice hang on the tip of her blade as her fingers twitched out a different spell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mage was too busy taunting her to notice. "Stupid little girl, do you honestly think I'm going to die by a knife-ear?" He all but flung his staff in her direction with a wave of flame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her own blade followed the movement, releasing the spell into a cloud of glittering ice between them. The mage cursed as her second spell closed the distance between them. Her sword slid easily through his gut. Her other hand wrapped around the back of his neck as she leaned in, her breath in his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mar solas ena mar din, Shem</span>
  </em>
  <span>." She hissed twisting the blade. She held the mage tight and pushed the blade out, his spine acting as a lever as she tore through the left side of his waist. His scream cut through the forest like a knife, nearly drowning the words that followed. "No god will grant you mercy in death, nor will I in life."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let his body drop, watching him for half a second. Then she left, leaving her sword impaled in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever composure she had when the Tevinter scouts were alive fell when she approached the mound of snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The snow was streaked in blood, and not all of it was from the men she had just killed. Much of it, she could only guess, came from the man within it. The man she loved like a brother, Freia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, venhedis!" She dropped to her knees in the snow beside him. Her fingers shook, reaching for his neck and the place between his jaw and his jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kaffas! Freia! I swear if you are dead-" She adjusted her fingers until she found what she was looking for; a pulse, strong and even. She tapped the side of his face lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'M fine." He grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. "Gimme 'sec."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Give you a sec? Fenedhis lassa, Frei. I need you up to tell me where you're hurt." She punched him in the shoulder lightly. She didn't wait for his reply, pulling at the clasps that held his jacket shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mom</span>
  </em>
  <span>." He opened his eyes to glare at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She punched him in the shoulder again, barely pausing her examination of him. He winced as fingers brushed over a gash at the base of his skull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ran her mana over his skin, knitting the flesh shut. It was the only thing of note above his waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's more, isn't there?" She pulled his coat shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"M' leg. It's broken, probably. Snows doing alright at dullin' th' pain." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bet the blood loss was contributing to that too," she grumbled, waving a hand to summon the abandoned staff to her hand. It would work well enough as a splint. She set it aside before returning to the task at hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe so," he let out a dry laugh watching her clear the snow off of him. "Bedside manner hasn't improved."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can complain about that after we get home," she paused, her eyes flicking up to meet his. "Why aren't you screaming? The bone's almost through your skin."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made a half-hearted attempt to shrug. "Snow?" She scowled. "Was unconscious for a bit. Snow helps, as does the blood loseseses- Loseses-?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Loss. The word you want is loss. Hold on a sec," she all but whispered the last part. Healing spells were well out of her area of expertise. Cuts and bruises she could handle, but it was better not to risk it with a broken bone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, that. That thingy. </span>
  <b>
    <em>Fuck!</em>
  </b>
  <span>" He glared at her accusingly. "What </span>
  <em>
    <span>the absolute fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Efra?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Had to set the bone," she reached for the staff behind her and broke it over her knee, setting the pieces on either side of his leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would some warning have killed you?!" He snapped, watching her dig through her coat pockets for the leather kit she always kept with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought it didn't hurt, Frei?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I</span>
  <em>
    <span> lied!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I do that," he hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't much for a field kit, just gauze, needles, thread, crushed elfroot and dawn lotus. She almost never needed more than that. She bound his leg around the splints, ignoring his curses. He was still cursing when she finished and knowing him, he wouldn't be done anytime soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trip home from the Wispwoods was usually one she could make in under an hour. Carrying Freia made the trip twice as long, not because he was especially heavy, but because he kept trying to move. Carrying him was annoying and uncomfortable for both of them. Yes, she knew her shoulder was digging into his hip, but after forty minutes of him complaining in her ear while she dragged his ass home, she was done. He was safe, and she was grateful, but he was still annoying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I feel like a dead deer," Freia complained again from his place, tossed over her shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You could always walk." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>You could always walk</span>
  </em>
  <span>," he mocked. "I'll settle for being a dead deer." He squirmed again, almost throwing her off balance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Deer don't complain as much as you do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm injured."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No shit," She rolled her eyes. She'd never been happier to almost be home. It wouldn't be long until she could dump Freia on a bed and be done with the hassle of carrying him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They weren't far from the entrance into Silverglass now. The mouth of the cave was almost in sight. Beneath the knee-deep snow was the remains of a cobblestone path that cut through the trees, made uneven by the roots beneath them. If Efra had wanted to, she could have spelled the roots out of the way, but it wasn't usually a hindrance. Freia had her regretting that decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was quiet for a few steps. "Where's Ree?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I sent her home with Way." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Way?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The spirit dad left in the ruins."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, you sent my sister off with a spirit?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine." Efra thought for a moment. "Probably."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Probably? Ef, what the fuck?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Way hasn't shown any interest in harming people." Erfa puffed out her cheeks. "It's fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Probably." Freia finished. "Just so you know, if my sister's an abomination when we get there, I'm sacrificing you to get her back."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She won't be; Way doesn't need a host."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All spirits need a host."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's already a lizard."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A... Lizard?" He shook his head. "Actually, I'll just see when we get there."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cave that led into Silverglass was unassuming. It looked like any other cave in the area; shallow and empty of anything but bats and spiders. This cave was different. Instead of ending it twisted until the light from outside the cave was a memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The darkness didn't last for more than a few steps. The next bend in the path forward opened up into glittering blue starlight, small blue points of light that swayed with the draft. The reality of the starlight along the path was a little less pleasant to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were larvae. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were the wriggling, glowing larvae of the area's native fireflies. They were fine at this stage of their lives. The worms kept to the ceiling of the cave, stringing silk webs and eating smaller insects. It was the stage after that Efra hated, when they started growing wings and swarmed their way to the exit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there was another way out of Silverglass during moulting season, she'd take it without question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The presence of the glowing worms and the fireflies also meant a lack of fire. The worms were flammable. They'd learned that lesson the hard way the first time they'd entered the cave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>About a quarter of the way through the passage, the worms had begun dropping off their webs. Then one caught fire, and the rest followed, forcing them deeper into the cave until the worms became scarce and the light of the ruins replaced their fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their mistake had been how they'd stumbled on the ruins in the first place. Nowadays, the path was lit with veil fire, cold blue flames that never extinguished. There was no need to dodge death to get home, but what hadn't changed was the breathless feeling of entering the ruined city again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>During the day, sunlight poured in through the hole at the centre of it, filtering through the foliage above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each half crumbled building between her and the centre showed traces of the people before them. From the old guard towers that overlooked the entrance to the carved stone bridge that crossed a chasm in the earth so deep she couldn't imagine it ever ended. The remnants of houses and shops lined the main road in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inner wall was just past it, protecting the inner city, Var Theneras, the long dream; hers and her fathers, and at one point, her peoples. It was the heart of ruins where the streets opened up into a large plaza and the ruined temple that she called home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It towered above the rest of the city with its spires and arches. It's windows, large arched stained glass, reflected greens and yellows into the street. It was one of the buildings that had remained mostly intact. Though, the roof could use more work. The hole was still covered by a tarp of thick cotton and beeswax. It worked well enough to keep the rain and snow out, but it still let in the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As beautiful as the day was, it was the night Efra loved most. It was when the strangeness of the ruins showed itself. Thousands of abandoned braziers lit with blue veil fire in memory of the city that had been before. It was night when stars and moon replaced the sun that she could imagine the people who lived there before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winter had brought the blue lights of evening earlier than summer. It was already dusk by the time Efra and Freia reached the inner-city and Rena.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rena was on the front steps of the temple when they arrived. Way had wound itself up into her hair, resting on her head like a sentry. In Efra's absence, they must have come to some sort of understanding with how comfortable Rena looked with Way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spirit mirrored Rena's excitement to see them stretching out past the support of Rena's head and falling into Rena's arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Efra home!" Way chirped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freia stared at the creature, his face twisted in confusion. "It's definitely a lizard." He said finally. "And it hasn't possessed Rena." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra shifted him until he was upright leaning on her for support. He cursed as his sister crashed into his chest, before running off with Way to find supplies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I told you." Efra prodded him in the side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ignored the glare he shot in her direction, in favour of helping him into the building and into a chair. His hand gripped her wrist as she moved to leave him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you-" his voice was quiet. "Has the Inquisition told you about-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," she pulled her wrist from his grip. "They haven't said anything. I'll deal with it, Frei. Just focus on getting better. I'll worry about Ellie."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>chapter 3 "A Mess In four Words" will be up next Saturday. (so close to introducing canon characters. (^;w;^) hang in there till chapter 4)</p><p>full-sized art here-&gt; https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/efras-sword-Nadas-838045571</p><p>[an author note] Frost is in need of a long term Beta. If you're interested feel free to leave a comment below. perks include getting to read future chapters before other people, and access to all my dumb notes on characters and plot. cons include, having to edit for word flow/sense and plot.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Mess In Four Words</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The foggy field behind the mirror was like a graveyard. Golden mirrors like her own stood vigil around stone walkways while the brass trees of the ancient elves loomed over them. Their branches were bare and round, empty as if they should have held a magic that was long gone. That impression stayed with her after she entered the mirror behind Way. </p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was strange having company in the ruins. For almost a year, her only company had come through Way and her weekly trips to the village. Freia and his sister weren't unwelcome. It was just- strange.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She also didn't have the supplies to host them for long. Though, the trip into the village to restock would give her a chance to apologize to Rosaline for her sudden departure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nights spent with Rosaline were always pleasant, but it had been a while since she could fully enjoy them. Each day Efra had spent waiting for news in </span>
  <span>Rosaline</span>
  <span>'s tavern had left her feeling like a rabbit caught in a snare. The more she struggled to distract herself, the more suffocating it felt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Freia and Rena's arrival had snapped the wire around her neck. It was easier to return to Rosaline knowing they were safe in Silverglass. The ruins had always brought her comfort, and its walls had always offered shelter, both literally and figuratively</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only Ellana's silence that remained, like a snare around her waist that Efra was ignoring. Ellana </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> be fine. The Inquisition </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> be hiding her for some reason, Efra had no hope of understanding. Ellana was tough even if she was reckless at times. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra didn't want to think about it. She wasn't going to think of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was rare that she left for the village without Way. The spirit's weight around her shoulders was one she'd gotten used to, but Way had been distracted even before they'd returned to Silverglass. Giving it purpose in guiding Rena had helped for a few hours. It had faded shortly after. Way had become lethargic in a way that Efra had never seen in spirit before. Not that she had much experience with them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra would question it later. For now, she would let Way sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was familiar enough with the path to Thillucaster that she didn't need Way. It didn't matter how long she took to reach it either. If anything, the quiet walk was welcome. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Early dawn was her favourite time to travel. It was when the birds were just waking up, and the faintest rays of sunlight started to breach the trees. It was long shadows and soft tittering songs that never reached her home. It was the dawn that let her scatter traps for animals and, in the spring, gather herbs for healing and cooking. She'd neglected to bring her traps. So, it was just the walk today. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosaline's tavern was the only tavern in the village. It wasn't the most well kept place from the outside. It was more than a little run down and its sign was too worn to actually read. Rosaline swore up and down it said</span>
  <span> ‘Rush &amp; Duchess’</span>
  <span>. Efra had yet to see it. She could almost make out an 'S' if she squinted. One letter did not make a sign, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shoved the door open to an empty tavern. It was less run down on the inside. The lit hearth cast a warm glow over the main room. The two yellow armchairs flanking it were faded with use and worn through in places. Rosaline insisted she was in the process of replacing them, but she hadn't in the time Efra had known her, and she likely wouldn't until they were practically disintegrating. The old round tables scattered around the main room were spotless beneath the wooden stools resting upon them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bar, as always, was the place that showed Rosaline's touch best. Behind it was shelf upon shelf full of bottles and glasses in no order that Efra could figure out. There had to be one for her to navigate it with the ease she did. Below the counter was a nest of novels she'd collected over the years, and her ledgers set to the left of them. Behind the bar was a doorway hidden from the front door by the cluttered shelves, and through it was the kitchen where Efra found her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosaline had never been much of a morning person. Efra doubted that she'd even gone to bed, an assumption that was proven correct when Efra found her hunched over a cup of tea in the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tea?" Efra cleared her throat. "Most people would just go to sleep, Roz."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosaline laughed. "Sleep is for the weak, Efra. haven't you heard?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra shook her head, moving to the chair across from Rosaline. "We both know you're very weak."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can pretend," Rosaline protested. She took a delicate sip of her tea. "For a little bit, anyway. We can't all be dashing warriors like you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not dashing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But, you are a warrior." She jabbed a finger at Efra.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm a mage." Efra corrected. She pushed Rosaline's hand down gently until both their hands were resting on the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What sort of mage carries a sword?" Rosaline scoffed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The kind that used to deal with templars on a regular basis." Efra laughed softly. "Freia taught me, so he would have a sparring partner. He's fine, by the way. He's a stubborn bastard."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>brother, Efra."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you calling me stubborn, Roz?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I wouldn't dream of it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was easiest talking in the mornings. The soft light of the dawn and Rosaline's sleepy voice was a welcome change to the tense evenings of days prior. It was a nice break before the morning's errands. It had to end eventually, though. She'd come for supplies, and the markets were bound to open soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra squeezed Rosaline's hand over the table before she pulled away. Her steps across the creaking floorboards were almost louder than her own quiet words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll drop by next time I'm in town." Efra looked back at Rosaline. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You could always stay." Rosaline murmured, absentmindedly into her cup. Her eyes widened for a moment as if surprised by her own words. Then she shook her head, finding her resolve to look at Efra. "I mean. Not right now, because you didn't bring anything with you, but- I'd like it if you stayed."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra hesitated in the doorway, her hands tracing the patterns of the wood. She let her eyes drift away from Rosaline, training them on the movement of her fingers. "You know I don't belong in Thillucaster, Roz." She spoke quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If it's about you being Dalish, no one here cares. They know you." Efra could hear Rosaline stand up, the scrape of her chair and the creaking of her steps towards her. "They don't-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not the only factor." Efra shot her a quick glance before moving past the doorway and out of the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a pang in her chest of an emotion she didn't want to name, as she realized Rosaline was still following her. She let her hand guide her steps around the bar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You could always stay.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ellana had said something similar to Efra when she'd left the clan, but staying was complicated and difficult then. It was complicated and difficult now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Efra-" Rosaline called after her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> a home." Efra turned back to her halfway to the front door. "I've </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> you about it." Her voice cracked over the words. "You know what it means to me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm just saying-" Rosaline grasped at Efras arm as she closed the distance between them. "Your ruin is close you can-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra pulled away, holding her arm close to her chest. "Leave everything behind?" Efra looked back at Rosaline. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not asking you to stay away from the ruins, Efra. I just want more than one day a week. To wake up for once and know that you're here to stay." She paced around Efra, stopping between her and the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra shook her head. "Say, I do stay. Have you even thought about what happens after? I am a Dalish apostate. That means something. What happens after this war is over and the Templars return? Do you think they'll just tolerate an elven mage on their doorstep?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We can-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I am not uprooting your life here, Rosaline. I don't belong here." Efra gestured around the tavern. "I belong to the ruins my father left me. It's where my life is."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Empty ruins, in the middle of nowhere!" Rosaline shouted back. "That isn't a life, it's a self-imposed prison. I know your father means the world to you, but you're allowed to move on."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra shook her head again. "They won't always be empty." She whispered. "Silverglass is his legacy. It was our dream, Rosaline! My father may be dead, but it is still mine!" Her voice raised in volume with each word. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes. "I- I can't-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took a breath, pushing past Rosaline to the exit. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dareth shiral</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Rosaline."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you, Efra!" Rosaline shouted after her. "Don't- please, Efra." She pleaded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra hesitated in the doorway. Her hands gripped the frame as she spared one last look at Rosaline. "I know. I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn't look back when she left. Instead, she focused on the early morning markets. Or rather, she tried to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every interaction with the locals felt forced and clipped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You could always stay.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shoved her supplies into her bag rougher than she should have. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regret banged against her ribs like a drum as she left Thillucaster. Of course, it was regret. Efra wanted nothing more than to go back and apologize, but it would solve nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosaline would still want her to stay, and Efra would still refuse her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a darker, hurt part of herself that she could feel beneath the regret that wanted something else. It wanted to lash out and blame Rosaline. It wanted to throw things and make a scene and cry like a child. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She did neither. Instead, she walked back to Silverglass in silence, angry and upset and full of regret. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it was better this way. Some things had to die for new things to grow, and Efra's love was a weed of its own. It choked out everything around it. It was better to weed herself out before she ruined Rosaline too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ruins hadn't changed in her absence. Nor had they in her presence. Restoring them and carving out a place for life within them had always been a futile struggle without her father's guidance, but gods, she wanted it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More than anything. She wanted her father's legacy to thrive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was grateful that Freia and Rena were asleep when she returned to the ruins. The silence was company enough. She didn't need any more as she shoved her supplies onto her shelves with more vehemence than they deserved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The anger wouldn't last, even if she kept clinging to it like she was. Efra could already feel it fading. The frustration left a bitter taste in its place that lingered throughout the day and well past the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Way's entrance that pulled her out of her quiet tantrum. She could feel the spirit's distress before it even entered her room. The soft whine shivered up the back of her neck as it slithered through the doorway. Its body was all but glued to the wall as it moved, it's nose rubbing against the stone wall as if looking for an exit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Way knew how to leave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Way?" Efra moved towards the spirit, slow and cautious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Way whined louder, it's a childlike voice speaking as if Efra hadn't spoken. "Lost, wandering, guideless. I am Way. I show the way. But they won't listen to Way." The spirit continued its path around the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Who won't listen?" Efra stepped into the spirits path. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Way rubbed its nose against her leg, winding around it. "Efra help Way? They listen to Efra, but not Way. No, no, no listen to Way."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra knelt to address the spirit. "Who won't listen?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Way's head tilted to look up at her before the spirit unwound from her leg. "Follow."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Way didn't wait for her, nor did it look back to see if she was following. It slithered over the cracked stone streets of the inner city and around the larger piles of rubble that Efra had never managed to remove. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knew the path Way was leading her down. It was one that led south through the wall that enclosed the inner city and into Ghilan'nain's garden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The garden was mostly untamed. Efra had never had the patience for gardening, and in the years without her clan's visits, it had been neglected. Despite that, it was still beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the spring, wildflowers pushed through every crack in the walkways and vines climbed up almost every surface. The blooming trees scattered throughout painted the sky like ink in water, fragrant and pretty. In the centre of the garden's chaos, was a white oak tree, strung with a dozen white ribbons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blue light of the veilfire sconces that lined the walls cast weird shadows through the bare branches as they moved through the garden. The silence of their path towards the western wall only added to the uncomfortable atmosphere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra knew where Way was leading her. There was only one thing of note on the southern wall, the thing they'd named the ruined city after. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silver mirror had never changed over the years. Its frame was an elaborate arch of silver vines climbing the edges of its frosted glass. Whatever it reflected, it was not the garden. Regardless of the seasons or time in the garden, it always showed the same dark shadows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Way pushed its way behind the mirror, emerging on the other side with its mouth ajar. The object between its jaws glittered as Way raised itself up. Efra knelt down, letting the spirit drop the object into her palm. Its jaw shifted back into place after. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cloudy green stones of the pendant in her hand were almost translucent. The largest was held thin strands of tarnished gold that twisted up around it like the horns of a halla. The other dangled below. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Way nudged the glass of the mirror with its nose as she turned it over in her hands. "Open."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's a door?" Efra reached for the mirror with her free hand. The glass rippled as she touched it, and the reflection in the glass cleared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The foggy field behind the mirror was like a graveyard. Golden mirrors like her own stood vigil around stone walkways while the brass trees of the ancient elves loomed over them. Their branches were bare and round, empty as if they should have held a magic that was long gone. That impression stayed with her after she entered the mirror behind Way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a short walk to the next mirror Way led her to. The spirit wound up her leg as she examined it. She could feel the cold through this mirror even before she touched it. Unlike the first mirror, the frosted glass gave nothing else away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulled Way from where the spirit had wound itself around her waist and draped it around her shoulders. Then she let her hand push through the glass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her feet sank into the snow covering the rocky landscape behind the mirror. Her eyes panned over the rocky landscape and up to the green light of the Breach above her, bright and angry in the space before dawn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Breach had always seemed small when she looked up at it from Thillucaster. It was less hostile with the Waking Sea between them. The dread of seeing it had never reached her there, but here- now- there was no looking away from it. Closed as the giant rift was, it still loomed above her, dripping fade matter like a wound oozing pus, the weight of its magic pressing against her skull like the start of a migraine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where are we, Way?" She whispered, adjusting her scarf to keep the cold wind off her face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"South."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Efra let out a hollow laugh. "Right, south." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She cursed, walking forward, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of life. There wasn't much to see apart from snowy mountains and the faintest trails of smoke to her left, a scouting camp, maybe. She doubted it, though. Way still hummed with a restless energy across her shoulders, so it couldn't be that simple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smoke only grew clearer as she walked towards it, and the sound of people filled the hills. The tang filled the air she drew close enough to see them; the wounded, the dead, and the red banners of the Inquisition. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The next chapter "Dawn Will Come" will be up next Saturday.</p>
<p>full-sized image -&gt; https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/map-of-silverglass-837627254</p>
<p>[an author note] a special thanks to my beta A-. thank you for everything!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dawn Will Come</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The living grieved in hushed whispers, and prayers, and sobs. Those that could scrambled to salvage what they could with shaking hands, but there was no order to any of it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Inquisition's banners were tattered, but they were still intact. The divine sun, the dagger, and the lone watching eye were coated in a layer of ash, but they were still woven into the fabric. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Inquisition behind the ragged banners was none of those things. It was more thread than fabric. The injured outnumbered the healthy and the dead- The growing pile of corpses was still fairly small, but Efra was certain there were hundreds more left behind. The living grieved in hushed whispers, and prayers, and sobs. Those that could scrambled to salvage what they could with shaking hands, but there was no order to any of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They needed the guidance that Way wanted to give them- That Efra wanted to give them. She knew their grief too well to feel nothing for them. She let her eyes take in the chaos of the makeshift camp as her feet took her deeper into it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Inquisition couldn't stay in the Frostback mountains. The cold and lack of any real shelter would mean half of them would be dead within a week. Even if the cold eased, there would still be the matter of their supplies. Whatever had forced them into the mountains in the first place likely wouldn’t let them resupply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It likely wouldn’t let them leave either, unless </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> led them through the mirror field. There had to be at least one mirror that could lead them to safety, which could lead them out of the harsh cold of the mountain. The question was, would they be safer there? The only mirror she knew well enough to say yes, was the one that led home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silverglass was certainly large enough to host the Inquisition. Its size wasn't what gave her pause. It was inviting strangers in. The majority of the Inquisition wouldn't understand what it meant to her. Bringing them in meant risking the desecration of her home, her history, her dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes drifted up towards the breach, the wounded sky still pouring green light into the mountains above them. Then she looked away, gripping the back of her neck in resignation. Leaving the Inquisition here wasn’t an option. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She caught the arm of the next person that tried to pass her, their protests dying on their lips as Efra spoke. “I have a message for your leaders. It’s important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The human man took a moment to assess her. His grey eyes, searching her over without any sort of subtly. Though, she supposed, she could respect that honesty in his actions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a thick greying beard and proud posture, but that could be said about any soldier. What stood out to Efra was his armour. The blue armour of the wardens wasn’t hard to recognize. She’d run into more than her fair share of wardens after the last blight. They’d been the ones to clear Silverglass after the darkspawn breached her father's wards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You aren't with the men that attacked us,” he decided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said-” Efra started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a message for the Inquisition's leaders,” he repeated her words, more to remind himself than her. She hummed as he gestured for her to follow, leading her deeper into the camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you exactly?” He watched her out of the corner of his eye. He had a faint accent to his words that was easy to miss, but Efra knew the Marches well enough to recognize it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that really what you want to know? My name?” She let out a soft laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a start,” he sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Efra,” she rubbed at the back of her neck. “I’m here on my own behalf, before you ask, mister...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blackwall,” He frowned, casting a quick look at her. “Efra? Why does that name sound familiar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sister might have something to do with that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall's steps paused, and he looked back again. “I don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ellana Lavellan.” Efra held his stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The herald?” his brows scrunched together in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is she, by the way? The letter I got back from the Inquisition didn’t say anything.” she let her eyes roam the camp, waiting for his answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s missing,” he admitted after a moment. His steps resumed towards the centre of the camp. “She has been for a while. I’m sorry.” there was a guilty edge to his voice that rubbed her the wrong way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it your fault that she’s gone?” her words were clipped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-! No. I had-” he spun to look back at her, his eyes wide with alarm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why are you apologizing?” She stared him down. “If you weren’t responsible and you weren’t the one hid her disappearance from me, why apologize?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- don't know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rather than that, I'd prefer to know how she vanished,” Efra glanced. “But, I'm guessing you don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not entirely.” he shuffled in place. “She went to Redcliffe with a mage, a tevinter man. He didn’t seem the type that would harm her, wanted her help for something. No one that went with them came back.” he looked away, before nodding towards the sound of shouting behind him. “They might know more.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra stared at the space over his shoulder. She walked forward. “Thank you.” she paused, looking at Blackwall one last time. “You should get ready for travel. If talks go well, the Inquisition will be leaving the Frostbacks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of the four human’s bickering, there was only one Efra could put a name to, Ambassador Josephine Montilyet. She looked like an ambassador would, anyway. Her clothes were fitting of a noble despite the ash and grime upon them. Her dress was made of expensive fabrics, ruffled and layered, and embellished with golden chains and jewels. Along one of the seams of her skirt, the stitching had been torn, and the fabric had been tied up to her belt so she could move through the knee-deep snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside her was a red-headed woman in chainmail, a Nevarran woman in armour, and a blonde man that had an unnatural silence about him that made the mana beneath her skin itch. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course, he was a templar.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t notice her until she stopped, resting her hands on their makeshift war table. She traced a line across the map upon it, letting her finger rest on a point across the waking sea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who in the maker's name are you?” The templar half growled at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra glanced up from the map at him. “Oh? You’re done yelling at each other? I’m a messenger or something.” She tapped the place on the map where her fingers had stopped. "From here.” she let the last word drag across her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Orlais?” he scoffed. “Let me guess, another noble sent you to demand answers. We’re-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I look like a nobles pet to you?” Efra cut him off. She took a breath. “Believe it or not, I came to help. Your warden figured that out in ten seconds. The Inquisition cannot stay in the Frostbacks. Its people need shelter, and I can provide it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Across the waking sea?" The red-head murmured, eying the map.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra let out a noncommittal hum, looking past her to the noblewoman. "You're ambassador Montyliet, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- yes." The woman frowned. "You're-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And who are you?" The templar snapped, cutting Josephine off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced at the man, an answer on her lips, but Josephine answered before her. "She's Miss Lavellan’s sister."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Efra will do." Efra tugged at her scarf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're supposed to be in Orlais." Josephine murmured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was." She crossed her arms. "And now I'm here, with an offer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"An offer to do what exactly?" The Navarran woman spoke for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My home in Orlais is large enough to host the Inquisition, and I'm willing to. I don't want you to die on this mountain and more than that; I want to know what happened to my sister."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And the catch?" the red-head asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The catch is that you respect my home, any history or artifact, and any life within. It's a bizarre and beautiful place, and I don't want it destroyed." Efra leaned against the table. "That's my condition. Ellie believed in the Inquisition before she went missing. She is rarely wrong about people."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Inquisition in action was impressive. With purpose and direction, it worked like an elaborate dwarven machine, scouts and soldiers, and moving parts all working together. Efra had stayed out of its way in favour of arguing with the templar, Cullen, and the red-head, Leliana. Not that arguing with the Inquisition had been her plan. It was more of an unfortunate consequence of dealing with Thedas’s most stubborn templar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen rivalled Freia in his stubbornness. Though, Cullen at least had the sense to be polite about it. Where Freia could be compared to a thorny thicket, Cullen was more of a stone wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cast a tired look at breach before slamming her hands down onto the table. “I am telling you this!” she tapped a point on the map furiously. “This place here is your best bet of getting out of these mountains. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>came</span>
  </em>
  <span> here through there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's a sheer cliff, Efra,” Cullen crossed his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not entirely,” she shook her head. “There’s- the ancient elves left no roads, but what they did leave were doors. There’s a door in that cliff that leads directly to Silverglass. It is not that far off your course, Cullen. It’s not a hard task to prove!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A door?” he scoffed. “How does a door-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything old and elven is magic, okay!” She snapped, throwing her hands up in the air. “The door is old, and it’s magic. It leads from here to countless other places, including my home, that I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>very much</span>
  </em>
  <span> like to get back to as quickly as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I may interrupt Cullen.” Leliana cleared her throat. “I have heard of strange elven artifacts like the one she speaks of. It’s not too far off our course. We could send someone to scout it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you! But, they won’t find it without me. I’m also the only one with the key.” Efra pulled her silver pendant from her pocket, holding it up for them to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I‘m guessing that’s also magic,” Cullen grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra tossed to him. “It isn’t as far as I can tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned the pendant over in his hands. There was a hint of a smile on his lips when he spoke. “I thought everything old and elven was magic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-? I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” Efra ran a hand down her face. “I almost miss arguing with Frei.” She levelled a tired look at him, holding her hand out for the pendant. “I don’t know how or why it works yet. It didn’t seem prudent to study it with people dying in the snow. Rest assured, it's on my to-do list.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck, clearing his throat. “Right…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gods, that was harsher than I meant it to be.” she sucked in a breath. “Please, just lend me a scout.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The next chapter "The Beggars Reprieve" will be up next Saturday.</p><p>It's finally time for the cannon characters to arrive! Yay! </p><p>The full-sized image is here -&gt; https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/Silverglass-pendant-838073446</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Beggars Reprieve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"So, this is what cosmic karma feels like."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Of all the things Efra was grateful for, she was most grateful that the walk to the mirror in the mountains was a short one. Maybe the dwarf they'd sent her with was Cullen's idea of revenge. Though, the templar didn't seem that petty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dwarf wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad. It was more the volume of questions and complaints that spilled from him every time he opened his mouth. He was strange for a dwarf, not as twitchy under the open sky as Efra would have expected. The lack of a beard was another one. What he lacked in beard hair was more than made up for with chest hair, exposed with the low cut of his red shirt, and open jacket. With how much the man complained about the cold and the snow, he should have closed it by now, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It would be a shame to keep all this to myself." he shrugged palms raised to the sky. "You understand, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra paused in the knee-deep snow to look back at him. "No. no, I really don't get it. You're wearing a coat, just use it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, now I-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just ignore him," the Navaran soldier cut in. She had been the other scout Cullen had sent Efra with. "Varric will complain regardless of the cold."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varric feigned offence with a gasp that didn't quite mask his laughter. "Why, Seeker, I'm hurt, and after all, we've been through."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra rolled her eyes, gesturing for Efra to continue. "Yes, yes, we have travelled together for some time. How you manage to come up with more complaints each time never fails to amaze me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>an author." Efra could almost hear his grin in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait," She frowned, glancing back at him. "You're Tethras?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled, offering her a short bow. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra's scowl deepened. "So, this is what cosmic karma feels like."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra snorted a laugh behind them. Varric sputtered a bit. "I- what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"To be fair, yours was the best of all the raunchy fiction I've ever attempted to read. John Trevelyan was the worst." she ran a hand through her hair. "In what world is the phrase 'empty my tanks' supposed to be sexy. I'd quite like to know, so I can avoid it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled. "I take it you're not a fan of Swords and Shields."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not a fan of most romance novels. It's nothing personal. Yours was just the last one I read." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra scanned the rocky they'd been trudging towards for the past half hour. The cliff didn't give much away, and the wind had long obscured her own tracks to the mirror. The breach had been enough of a landmark to navigate to the cliff, but reaching the mirror itself… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra prodded Way beneath her scarf, summoning a ball of light with her other hand. It hovered above the snow marking their path. Way hummed in the back of her mind, giving Efra an impression of the path forward. She adjusted their course to match it. They weren't too far now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know," Varric started again. "With how often Ellana mentioned your obsession with swords, I wasn't expecting you to be a mage. Figured you'd be more like Cassandra, waving it around."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There was little time to grab Nadas on my way out." Efra rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised Ellie didn't mention Silverglass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm guessing that's the creepy old ruin in the middle of nowhere," he supplied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra paused in the knee-deep snow to look back at him. "Of course, she would call it creepy." She sighed. "It isn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad. It's been over a decade since she saw it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a ruin in the middle of nowhere," Varric confirmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where else would it be?" She rolled her eyes. "Have you ever been to a ruin in the middle of somewhere?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It was a rhetorical question." She cut him off, scanning the landscape again. She could barely see the gleam of the mirror at the base of the cliff. The way it caught the light made it easy to mistake it for something else. It could have been ice or just a trick of the eye to someone that didn't know better. She trudged towards it, picking up her pace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mirror was frosted when they reached it. The shadow of the field behind it, the only sort of reflection on its surface. Efra pulled the pendant from her pocket as she made yet another ball of light for the Inquisition to follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's-" Cassandra reached for the glass. "a mirror?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra hummed in response, lifting the pendant to touch the mirror. The glass shimmered, clearing the frost and revealing the field behind it. She pushed her arm through it, up to her elbow, and looked back at Cassandra. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's a door." Efra pulled her arm back. "Larger carts won't be able to pass through so they'll have to be left behind, but beyond this is a short walk. It's about fifteen metres to Silverglass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's amazing," Cassandra whispered, moving closer for a look. "And you can just walk through?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes." Efra stepped through the mirror waiting a few seconds for Cassandra and Varric to emerge after her. "Easy as that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varric shook his head, cursing as he took in the mirror field. "Well, shit."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra paced a few steps forward. "All these mirrors… Are they all the same?" She looked back at Efra. "Are they all doors?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Probably, haven't exactly had the time to figure out where they all go." Efra gestured for them to follow her, navigating the cobblestone paths with ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There didn't seem to be a day or a night in the field. The sky stayed grey, and the clouds that hung in it were unmoving and unchanging in a way that was unique to the dreaming world of the Fade. Unlike the Fade, the field was grounded in reality. The mirrors were real, the stones beneath her feet were real, but time...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wherever the field was, it was between worlds. It was a place of ways, as Way would call it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra huffed a soft laugh, pausing at the silver mirror into her home. She looked back to Cassandra and Varric, then trailed the pendant down the glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded towards the mirror. "After you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spires of the temple in the heart of the ruins could be seen from the mirror's exit. Through the bare twisting branches of the trees in the garden and over the walls of the inner city. The morning light of the sun poured in like gold, illuminating the massive cave with its warm light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra was speechless as her feet led her deeper in, towards the garden's exit. She stopped at the gate, staring down the streets into the sprawling ruin beyond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra patted her shoulder. "Big enough?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She choked on a laugh. "And then some. How did you find this place?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Childhood stupidity?" She shrugged. "Ellana nearly set us all on fire. Firefly larvae are surprisingly flammable. Who knew?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" the woman shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"When we stumbled upon it, Ellie lit a torch and nearly set us on fire." Efra supplied. "The ruins have been my home ever since."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra's mouth gaped open. "I- I don't know what I was expecting."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know when Ellana said you lived in a cave, I was expecting a cave. This is- makers balls." Varric whistled behind her. "You know normally I hate caves-" Efra pinched the bridge of her nose in preparation for another complaint. "But, this is alright." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra laughed. "It's alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth." he crossed his arms. "This is nice compared to the Frostbacks."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the short break between the Inquisition's arrival in the ruins Efra went home. The Inquisition didn't need her to be there to guide them. Cassandra and Varric knew the way, and Efra had deliberately left the doors open for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was better that she stayed. She'd dragged her kitchen table into the plaza outside the temple she called home and scattered her maps and notes on the ruins upon it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was little point in waking Freia to let him know. Knowing him, he'd question her choice to offer them a place in the ruins for as long as they needed it. He barely got along with humans on a good day, and with his injury, he'd be more irritable than usual. With any luck, it would be well past noon when he woke on his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rena had taken the news well. The mention of learning what happened to Ellana more than satisfied her. She'd insisted on waiting by the mirror for the Inquisition to arrive, and Efra joined her, taking a map of the ruins with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra was the fist of the Inquisition to breach the mirror, followed by Josephine and Leliana. Cullen was the last. He, in contrast to the others, looked more apprehensive of the ruins than amazed. His hesitance faded as Efra led them deeper into the ruins, pointing out places of interest as they passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only natural that the plaza in Var Theneras would host the Inquisition's command centre. It was the easiest place to command the Inquisition from, long term. The garden was quick to become a rest for the injured and the sick. The rest of the Inquisitions people, the scouts and soldiers, and mages and diplomats came further in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana and her people had spared no time in exploring the area either. Her scouts were split between exploring Silverglass and the Wispwoods outside. Efra had warned her about the woods when leliana had brought it up. The sylvians, the reflections, the rifts, and most recently the tevinter scouts she'd killed; there was no telling what could happen in the Wispwoods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cullen had also gotten to work immediately, ordering his soldiers to clear space for people in the buildings surrounding the plaza. The men he sent to the true entrance to ruins were more for show than security. There was next to no risk of anyone knowing where the Inquisition was, let alone attacking it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Josephine had taken to pouring over maps and trade agreements. Securing food and medical supplies for the Inquisition couldn't have been easy. The tail end of winter meant supplies were already low across the region. The warring that had started in Kirkwall to the east of them didn't help. The Free Marches had been hit hardest by the fighting. In spite of that, Efra didn't doubt that Josephine could get the supplies the Inquisition needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silverglass rested near the border of orlais and the edge of the Waking Sea. There were at least a dozen different ports within a week's journey, Cumberland being the biggest of them. Prices would be high, but what was cost, to survival?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>as i am struggling to fall into a writers flow with the next arc of Frost there may be a short break between this introductory arc and the next. I'm sure you can all predict where the next arc is going. i don't usually write the kind of content that the next arc centres around so its strange trying to adjust. there two more chapters of this arc and they'll be coming out as scheduled. "Rabbit Hearts On Parchment" will be out next week and "Salvation And Mercy" will be out the week after that.</p><p>lots of love-<br/>Avery</p><p>full-sized image here -&gt;https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/map-of-ghilan-nain-s-garden-839670428</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Rabbit Hearts On Parchment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Her hands shook slightly as she reached for the maps and reports on her table, and sucked in a shaky breath. It did little to quell the growing chasm of grief gnawing at the space within her ribs.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>"ar'an melenem sul av or el asa'ma'lin.<br/>ar'an nulam ra." -image text.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the past, the clan had stuck to the outer city. The rubble that had blocked off the inner city had taken years to clear, and even after it had been, the outer city was their home. Izaya had called it El Vhenas. Her father had never been especially adept at naming things, but despite that, it had stuck for years. Even after the wards had broken and the streets were stained with his blood it had remained <em> our home </em>. </p><p>Efra traced the district with a finger barely acknowledging the scout waiting for her reply. El Vhenas didn’t fit as a name. It hadn’t in over ten years. The inquisition’s presence in the ruins had brought countless changes in the hours they’d been there. What was one more?</p><p>“Um... ma’am, I-”</p><p>“It’s just Efra,” she cut the scout off, looking up to meet her eyes. The human girl barely looked sixteen, twitching with her nerves as Efra assessed her. </p><p>She jumped as Efra cleared her throat. “This area, Crows Cradle, is the biggest district of the outer city,” she traced the area on the map. “It’s everything north of the road out of Silverglass. The southern part of it should be clear enough for Cullen’s soldiers and Leliana’s scouts. There should even be a proper barracks near the exit.” </p><p>The scout nodded quickly, all but running to relay Efra’s words to her superiors.</p><p>“I did not realize you were so intimidating,” a familiar voice chuckled behind her. </p><p>“Yeah, I didn't either.” Efra rubbed the back of her neck, looking back towards Cassandra. “Have you warned your people about the Deeproads entrance?”</p><p>Cassandra nodded. “Cullen has assigned men to stand guard for now, as well as by the mirror and path out.”</p><p>“And your people?”</p><p>“There aren’t many left in the Frostbacks. They’re mostly scouts that were exploring different options.” Cassandra leaned against the table between them. “They’ll be here by sunrise tomorrow.”</p><p>Cassandra let out a breath watching the busy city around them. “This must be strange for you,” she murmured. “To see so many people in your home. Ellana mentioned you’ve lived alone for some time.”</p><p>“Yes, it’s a bit weird, but it’s what I wanted.” Efra let her elbows rest on the table. “There’s more humans, and dwarves, and qunari than I imagined, but it feels right. It's a city. It should be full of life.”</p><p>Cassandra laughed. “Ellana would have had us believe you liked being alone. I- cannot speak for the whole of the Inquisition, but I am glad you found us, Efra.” she frowned. “About Ellana…”</p><p>“Leliana already told me she vanished in Redcliffe,” Efra sorted through the pages on the table. “And about the magister she was trying to stop. Honestly, it seems a little unreal. All that talk of time magic and elder ones seems so fairy tale-ish. I'm trying not to think of it, because if I do now, I'll be a mess. I can wait until after the Inquisition has settled to let it sink in.”</p><p>Cassandra nodded, reaching across the table to squeeze Efra's shoulder. “I understand. If we learn anything else about Ellana, I'll let you know.” she pulled away reaching into her pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. “In the meantime Leliana requested I give you the report. When the Inquisition is stable again there were plans to return to Redcliffe.”</p><p>“You’re inviting me to join you?” Efra’s eyes widened as she took the the page an unfolded it.</p><p>“It seemed right to. She was your sister, I would have wanted the same if it was my brother.” there was a bitter edge to Cassandra’s voice that came with grief. It hung on the last word, bleeding regrets.</p><p>Efra knew it well, but she didn’t comment. Cassandra’s grief was her own, unless she wished to share Efra wouldn’t pry. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Just- thank you.”</p><p>Efra didn’t look up from the page. Not even when Cassandra excused herself to run errands for Cullen. The report in her hands wasn’t anything new. It was the longer more detailed version of what Leliana had told her. That Ellana had met with the mages in Redcliffe at the first enchanter's request. She’d learned that mages there had been sworn into a servitude to a tevinter magister, and that the enchanter was ignorant of her own request to meet the mages. Their investigation had led to another tevinter man and time magic. The plan to bring the magister down had seemed to go off unhindered, but everything after Ellana entered Redcliffe castle was unknown. No one that had gone with her had returned, and the king and arl that had followed on their own mission to evict the magister had gone missing too.</p><p>Efra frowned at the page refolding it and tucking it in her own pocket. The hollow feeling in her chest that she’d been ignoring pulled at her lungs, begging her to cry, and scream. She didn’t. Her hands shook slightly as she reached for the maps and reports on her table, and sucked in a shaky breath. It did little to quell the growing chasm of grief gnawing at the space within her ribs.</p><p>The creek of a door behind her pulled her away from her thoughts, and towards the lanky elven man resting in the door frame. His tired green eyes didn’t bother to hide his confusion as he watched the busy plaza that had been vacant the day prior. The wooden crutch beneath his left arm seemed almost too tall. Though, Efra knew it had more to do with his dedication to slouching than his height.  </p><p>He cleared his throat, straightening hobble down the three stairs that led into her home. He didn’t stop at the bottom of the stairs. He kept going until he reached Efra at her table a few paces further. </p><p>"So, while I was asleep you got some shems." Freia stood in front of her awkwardly. "A lot of shems. Probably too many. Hey Efra. Why?" He gestured to the people around them, scurrying around the plaza. "Are you having a goddamn crisis? How did you even-? Do I want to know?"</p><p>"Way insisted I guide them through the mirror." Efra rubbed the back of her neck. She looked away, returning her gaze to the table in front of her.</p><p>"Way insisted-?” she could see him shaking his head out of the corner of her eye. He pushed a few of the pages out of his way so he could sit on the table. “You know what. I don't want to know. Who are the shems? Why are they here? When will they be gone?"</p><p>Efra ran a hand through her hair, looking back at him. "They're the remains of Ellie's Inquisition. I said they could stay."</p><p>"Oh." He frowned, rubbing at the space beneath his left collar bone. "Haven go up in flames then?"</p><p>"It's buried under an avalanche. Ellie's- Ellie didn't make it out of Redcliffe," she pulled the folded piece of paper from her pocket, offering it to him. </p><p>"Ah, shit,” he took the page from her hands. His frown deepened as he scanned the words upon it. He flipped the page as if expecting more to be written on the other side, before reading it again. There was a tremor in his hands he didn’t quite manage to hide. The edges of the page crinkled where he held it too tight. “Shit, yeah. I figured something had happened.” </p><p>Freia let out a shaky breath, looking away from Efra to watch the plaza again. His voice was quiet when he spoke. “She’s dead, isn’t she?” </p><p>“No one knows.”</p><p>“‘Cept the bastard that did this to her,” he snapped, raising paper. “Fucking shit, Ef. All this time looking and no one knows?”</p><p>Efra took his hand in her own, pulling the page from his hands gently. “Once the Inquisition is settled I'll be going to Redcliffe to find her. I’ll find out what happened.”</p><p>“And what happens if you find nothing, Efra? What happens if you don't come back? Am I just supposed to lose another sister? Offer rabbits to the earth in place of a body? That's not insulting at all." </p><p>"Something has to be given back to the earth." Efra met his gaze. “I’ll come back, Frei. I don't know if I'll find Ellana, but I'll come back. No matter what.”</p><p>He shut his eyes and sucked in a breath. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, partially revealing the delicate tattoos beneath it. “You better, Efra.”</p><p>He chewed on his lower lip, glaring up at the sky through the hole in the ceiling of the cave. His fingers tapped out a restless rhythm on the table as he wrestled with his thoughts.</p><p>“I-” He shut his eyes, taking a breath. “I was going to tell you Wycome this morning, but you slipped out before I could. Then you were upset.” he opened his eyes to look at her. “If they're staying, you should ask them to look into it,” he said after a moment. “I think… Maybe, it's worse than what I told you.”</p><p>Efra hesitated. “I thought you said it was Cholera?”</p><p>“I say I thought it <em> could </em> be cholera, but it isn’t,” he pushed himself forward so he was on the edge of the table. his hands balled into fists in his lap. “Cholera would have hit the alienage first. Whatever sickness it is, it's only spreading in the human districts. It was bad enough we were hearing about it in the outskirts when we left. Apart from the sickness there was paranoia and fear. The shems call it the knife-ear plague, as if <em> we </em> caused it.” he cursed. “We can’t prove it, but elves from the alienage have started going missing. It was only a matter of time before they started to take people out in the open.”</p><p>“That’s why you brought Rena?” Efra moved to stand in front of him. “Then-”</p><p>“I promised the clan I'd bring back help.” He reached for his crutch.</p><p>“You're not going anywhere with that leg.” Efra crossed her arms. “Cassandra’s supposed to be in the garden. Rest. I’ll talk to her.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the final chapter of the first arc will be up next week! as expected there will be a delay between this arc and the next. this is because not only am I having trouble writing it, but I also have to move. there is also the fact that alongside the next arc I'll be writing a ten chapter side story about the events of the next arc, centred around a side character. </p><p>why am I choosing to do this to myself? well, the short answer would be that I couldn't figure out a few plot elements looking at things from Efra's perspective. so I flipped it. the side story "Iris" follows a human guard captain, Helloise Lumiere and her work with the Dalish. her story was too compelling to leave untold after I figured it out. so I've begun writing it (to avoid spoilers Iris will be released after the next arc concludes) (I'm also noticing a trend where I just name side stories after flowers whoops.)</p><p>full sized image -&gt; https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/chapter-six-image-841987206?ga_submit_new=10%3A1589605263</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Salvation And Mercy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A pale boy looked back at her from the branches of the tree above. The wide brim of his hat drooped over his shoulders, obscuring his face with its shadow and the long messy blonde hair beneath it. His clothes were well worn, covered in patches and fraying at the seams. His feet swayed above her as he looked down. Despite the bustle of the path around them, Efra seemed to be the only one that noticed him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>The garden had never been busy in the years that Efra had known it. There’d never been more than a dozen people within it, but now it was overflowing. The Inquisition’s injured filled every open space they could, leaving only a single path into the city clear. Efra hovered on the edge of the path. Her eyes moved over the people searching for Cassandra. </p>
<p>“She isn’t here,” a voice spoke from behind Efra. It was low and even and calming in a strange way. A strange prickle climbed up the back of her neck when it spoke again. “Restless and scared. The mirror took the others, but it will not take them. They think it's evil. She went to calm them.”</p>
<p>Efra turned to face the voice. A pale boy looked back at her from the branches of the tree above. The wide brim of his hat drooped over his shoulders, obscuring his face with its shadow and the long messy blonde hair beneath it. His clothes were well worn, covered in patches and fraying at the seams. His feet swayed above her as he looked down. Despite the bustle of the path around them, Efra seemed to be the only one that noticed him.</p>
<p>“You want to help but you’re too far.” he tilted his head to the side. “<em> It’s better this way, </em> the smell of old books and fresh ink. <em> Will you hate me if I go? Will you forget if I never return? </em> You want to return, but your home is here. Ribbons on the old oak tree, <em> I will remember, it won’t happen again. </em>”</p>
<p>Efra blinked. She let out a soft laugh. “You're a spirit.”</p>
<p>“Yes?” his feet continued to sway as he watched her with blue eyes. “I am Cole. I came to help.” he dropped from the tree. </p>
<p>Efra reached for him, brushing the tips of her fingers across his shoulder. “You aren’t possessing anyone, but you’re stable. That’s weird.”</p>
<p>“Yes?” Cole blinked. </p>
<p>She hummed. “Well, weird isn’t always bad. If you can help, you can stay.”</p>
<p>“She’ll be back soon. <em> Foolish templars. </em> She’ll help if she can.” he murmured, pointing in the mirror's direction. </p>
<p>She looked away from him to follow the direction he was pointing, down the busy path and past the makeshift infirmary. When she looked back, he was gone. </p>
<p><em> Spirits </em>. She shook her head, moving towards the mirror.</p>
<p>True to Cole's words, Cassandra didn’t take long to return. His words echoed on her lips as she entered the garden.</p>
<p>“Foolish templars,” Cassandra ran a hand over her hair. “You would think that they could see that the mirror was not the work of some <em> evil </em> magic.” she scoffed. </p>
<p>“Is it any surprise that templars are superstitious?” Efra watched the templars file in after her. Their steps were hesitant and unsteady. “Is it just the scouts that are left?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Cassandra rolled her shoulders. “They should all be back within the hour.” Cassandra frowned. “Has your brother...”</p>
<p>“He knows about Ellie,” she pulled at the collar of her shirt, looking away. “There was something else I wanted to ask.”</p>
<p>___</p>
<p>There was a ribbon on her bedside table when she woke; a thin green ribbon threaded through the mirror key like a chain. Beside it was a note written in a messy hand, barely legible. </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Something new caught in old stones. The girl won’t miss it. </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Efra flipped the note over in her hands. She knew who’d left it. There were few that could pass the wards around her room, and the spirit humming outside of her door was one of them. </p>
<p>Efra’s room was a nest, high above the rest of the temple and half hidden behind the tapestries she’d strung from the rafters. The balcony that preceded it was small, overlooking the open area below that now hosted the Inquisition's leaders, and on its railing was <em> him.  </em></p>
<p>He didn’t look up from his perch when she opened her door. The green ribbon and the pendant rested on her collar, beneath armour she hadn’t worn in years. She was surprised it still fit. She adjusted the straps holding her sword, Nadas, to her back as she approached him.</p>
<p>“He doesn’t want to go, but he feels he has to,” Cole muttered, watching the people below them. “Whispers of red stone, <em> it’s probably nothing, but if it isn’t… It’s evil. At least it's a city this time. </em>”</p>
<p>Efra leaned against the railing, attempting to spot the person he was talking about. “Who are we talking about?” Cole pointed at a dwarven man. “Varric’s coming? I thought it would just be the three of us once Freia gets back from the healer.”</p>
<p>“Yes?” Cole kicked his legs as they dangled over the railing. He looked over at Efra, tilting his head to the side. He reached towards her, his hand hovering over her collar. “You're wearing it.” he murmured. “It's green. It would be bad if it was white. <em> He </em>liked green.”</p>
<p>She touched the thin green ribbon around her neck. “So, it <em> was </em>you that left it on my nightstand.”</p>
<p>“Yes? You like green too.” he pulled his hand back. </p>
<p>“I do. Thank you Cole, but you didn’t answer my question.”</p>
<p>“He wants to go home,” Cole leaned forward, almost tipping over the railing. “Wycome is close enough.”</p>
<p>Efra eyed Varric below. “I suppose he...” she trailed off as she looked back to the spot where Cole had been. “Right, spirits.”</p>
<p>There was a scout waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs; a large man, whose hands shook as he passed her a report from Josephine. She raised a brow as he scurried away like a kicked dog.</p>
<p>“He was talking about the lights you left in the snow.” a small voice called from beside Efra. Rena stared up at her. Way was coiled loosely around her neck like a scarf. “He said you were Maker sent, so I told him he was dumb.”</p>
<p>Efra choked on a laugh. “Of course.” Efra ruffled her hair. “Are you sure you're okay staying here with the Inquisition?”</p>
<p>Rena nodded. “They’ve been nice. Mister Krem said he’d teach me how to make stuffed nugs, and cheat at cards.” She whispered the last part.</p>
<p>“Krem?”</p>
<p>“He’s helping set up a tavern outside.” Rena shrugged. “He’s nice. He saved me from a horse yesterday.”</p>
<p>Efra hummed. “Ah. The mercenary Freia thought was suspiciously polite.” </p>
<p>“He isn’t-”</p>
<p>“I’m sure Krem is fine. Just be careful and promise me you’ll set aside a stuffed nug for me.” </p>
<p>Efra watched Rena grin and run off before she turned her attention to the reports the scout had given her. Josephine’s elegant script explained the basics of her mission in Wycome and summarized Ellana’s actions in the area. Josephine had also provided the letters from Leliana’s agent in the area. It wasn’t much.</p>
<p>The clan had contacted the inquisition in search of help against bandits and Ellana had asked for Leliana to send her men to sort it out. They’d learned that the bandits had been a cover for the duke of Wycome’s men. Clan Lavellan had been chosen as a scapegoat to take the blame for the sickness within the city. Freia had told her the same. Though, his accounting of events had been more colourful. </p>
<p>Josephine had sent an ambassador to ease relations between the city and the clan after; a lady  Volant. She must have only just arrived in the city. Freia hadn’t mentioned a diplomat.</p>
<p>She read the reports again, memorizing the details as footsteps approached her. They were quick, light steps; Varric, probably.</p>
<p>“Sooooo…” He drawled. “I hear you’re going to Wycome.”</p>
<p>Efra looked over the pages at him. “And I hear you're joining us.”</p>
<p>“Cassandra tell you that?”</p>
<p>“Cole did,” she passed him the reports. “He also mentioned something about red stone.”</p>
<p>Lyrium was a headache on a good day. It was the drug that gave templars their ability to render mages useless and the unstable crystal used etch magic into objects. It was powerful and dangerous and more importantly it was blue. It’s ‘song’ was a noise that only a select few dwarves could hear and its madness was spread only through taking it. It built up beneath the skin as it devoured the body from the inside out.</p>
<p>The lyrium Varric told her about was different. It had been one of catalysts that had pushed Kirkwall over the edge. It was red and corrupted and sang its warped song to anyone near it. It had driven Varric’s brother mad as well as the commander of Kirkwall’s templars. It had intensified the knight-commanders paranoia of mages leading her to tighten her grip on the city until it burst under the pressure and leaving her encased in the crystal.</p>
<p>There were other factors in Kirkwall’s undoing. The tensions between mages and templars had been building for years. Even before the lyrium idol, there were unjust killings of mages and templars that forced the rite of tranquility upon them, sealing their magic away forever along with their will and emotion. There’d already been blood mages and demon-possessed abominations in the circles, and apostates in the streets. The chantry had already convinced the people that mages were monsters, was it any surprise the mages became them. There was also Anders.</p>
<p>Anders, the man that had been the last straw; the demon-possessed apostate living beneath the streets. Efra couldn’t agree with his methods. How many innocent people had died for his message? The warring between mages and templars was still raging across the entire continent of Thedas, catching innocents in its crossfire. All because he blew up Kirkwall’s Chantry and set it in motion.</p>
<p>The explanation was strange to hear from him, but it was honest, like an uncomfortable confession. Varric had known Anders once and the Streets of Kirkwall. He’d laid witness to Kirkwall's undoing and the start of the war between mages and templars. While Anders and the war were problems far out of reach and too large for one man, the red lyrium was different and personal.</p>
<p>Varric grumbled as he helped Efra saddle their horses in preparation for the journey. The majority of the trip would be made by water, travelling east over the waking sea to the nearest port, but Silverglass was still half a days ride from the coast. </p>
<p>Varric wasn’t the only one in the makeshift stables. Cole had also shown up, speaking softly to the horses as they could reply. Maybe they could. Spirits rarely required spoken words to understand. </p>
<p>Freia was the last to arrive well after she’d prepared his horse. It was to be expected. He’d been with one of the Inquisition’s healers since he woke. Healing bone was always tedious, even with magic speeding up the process. Working slowly was always the best option.</p>
<p>“How’s the leg?” Efra didn’t look up from the grey horse in front of her. </p>
<p>Freia grunted, gripping the reins of the one beside her. “Mage healed it. It’s fine, but the strangest thing happened.”</p>
<p>“Hmm?” she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before moving to mount her steed.</p>
<p>He followed suit, casting a glance at the others. “Yeah, she had the decency to warn me before she started.”</p>
<p>“Did you kick her in the face too?” Efra grinned, urging the horse forward towards the ruins' main exit. “Because the last time I warned you, you split my lip.”</p>
<p>“That was years ago.”</p>
<p>“I still have the scar, Frei,” she touched her lip. “You kick like a mule.”</p>
<p>“It was <em> five </em>years ago.”</p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yay, the end of introductions is here. There will be a (hopefully short) hiatus as I edit this arc and write the next. I'm looking forward to finishing the next arc and getting back on schedule! for now I leave you with this drawing of Efra.</p>
<p>deviant art links:<br/>opening image: https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/Cole-and-efra-843000291?ga_submit_new=10%3A1590253699<br/>Efra: https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/efra-casual-843001831?ga_submit_new=10%3A1590254511</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Gathering Of Deer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Even with the warring across the Free Marches, Wycome had stayed the same. The port was full of wine and imports from across the sea. The foul scent of fish and the grimy grey cobblestone streets was a backdrop to the clink of bottles and the yells of sailors and fishermen. Large stone warehouses lined the walk and obscure the large sprawling city behind them.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wycome’s southern docks were as colourful as they were crowded. In the evening light, the city's wealth shone through the glass lamps that lit its streets. The warm orange of their glow poured over sailors and their cargo as they offloaded it around efra and her companions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even with the warring across the Free Marches, Wycome had stayed the same. The port was full of wine and imports from across the sea. The foul scent of fish and the grimy grey cobblestone streets was a backdrop to the clink of bottles and the yells of sailors and fishermen. Large stone warehouses lined the walk and obscure the large sprawling city behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Few paid them any notice as they descended from the ship, though they were far too armed to be ordinary sailors. That wasn’t the only thing that should have made them stand out. They were a strange group of travelers; two Dalish elves, a dwarf, and Cole who had already vanished somewhere into the crowd. Efra was grateful that Freia hadn’t picked a fight with either of them. Though, she wasn’t sure the complaints he and Varric were bonding over was an improvement. As for Cole, Freia had accepted him in the same way he’d accepted Way. He ignored him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Going unnoticed on the docks was one thing, but beyond them they would stand out. With the ‘knife-ear’ plague ravaging Wycome’s streets there was no way non-humans would be welcome. There was also the reason that the Dalish rarely entered cities. More often than not ended in bloodshed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humans had a history of erasing Dalish clans. It was what made the Duke's decision to invite clan Lavellan into his Keep as guests so uncomfortable. It reeked of ulterior motives. Efra’s invitation as an ‘ambassador’ of the Inquisition had a similar weight, but they were already in Wycome.there was no point in debating her decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra’s footsteps stopped at the end of the pier as she watched a cloaked woman step towards them. Her posture was weird for the cargo docks. She held herself like a dancer, flawless and performative, and distinctly upper class. Upon closer inspection the reddish-brown cloak was also well made. It lacked the wear of a hand-me-down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman fidgeted, tugging on her hood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are…” her voice was soft and slightly accented. “You are miss Feron. I am Lady Guinevere Volant of Antiva. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra nodded a greeting back. “Thank you lady Volant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just Guinevere is fine.” she waved a hand back and forth dismissively. “I’ll admit it is a bit strange being addressed so formally outside of court.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you should call me Efra too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guinevere Volant was a small woman. Most humans were taller than elves, but she was about the same size as efra. She was pale with wispy blonde hair that she revealed once they were sheltered from the sea’s constant mist. She fidgeted constantly with her hands as they walked to the awaiting carriage. Her mouth opened and shut at least a dozen times. It was only when they settled in the coach that she worked up the courage to speak again, her voice betraying her nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The city has been… Exciting?” she clutched the fabric of her dress. “I- your keeper arrived yesterday. I- maker’s breath. Miss Deshanna has been a mercy. The duke is cordial, but I'm in a bit over my head here, with the plague, the war, and the dukes court. It’s a disaster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varric let out a soft chuckle. “It’s that bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guinevere scowled at him, throwing her hands in the air. “The duke and his ‘advisor’ seemingly delight in playing the court lords and ladies against each other. There are so many new grudges between families the lot can barely stand being in the room with each other. There have been no less than four challenges to duel for honour in the three days that I've been in wycome.” she clutched her face. “It’s dreadful. In antiva they at least have the sense to keep squabbling like this behind closed doors. If the fighting is this bad in front of a guest, i can only imagine the things I don't see. I have no idea how miss deshanna can keep her head in this chaos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freia snorted. “She did watch us grow up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We never dueled anyone for honour, Frei.” Efra leaned back into her seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There were plenty of other incidents. El almost setting us on fire, that time I broke my arm sparring with you, when someone pranked Ree and I rampaged through the camp…” he counted on his fingers. “We got into a lot of trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Correction, you and Ellie got into a lot of trouble. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>tried to minimize it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you forgetting the time you froze half the camp?” He grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra cuffed him in the back of his head. “It was an accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just saying, it wasn’t just me and El. Desha probably has nerves of steel from dealing with us for so long. That’s not even mentioning the others. Remember when Iris insisted on helping a Wyvern that got stuck in a trap?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How could I forget? He’s damn lucky we got out of that unscathed, and that Desha didn’t tell my dad.” Efra ran a hand down her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A- Wyvern? Well, she certainly does have nerves of steel.” Guinevere let out a nervous laugh. She cleared her throat. “Most of clan Lavellan has elected to stay in the alienage, to protect its residents from the Hounds, but your keeper will be waiting for us at the Keep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varric narrowed his eyes. “The Hounds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re the claiming responsibility for the elves that have gone missing. You can see their writings in the streets. They are human, probably.” Guinevere shook her head. “The city guard says they’re keeping an eye out, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s likely they aren’t taking it seriously.” Efra finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are a few that are. Sir Lumiere, and her detachment is working closely with the dalish regarding the Hounds” guinevere paused. “At least that’s what Deshanna has told me. Sir Lumiere asked for the arrangement when clan Lavellan arrived.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thats... Suspicious.” Freia muttered as the carriage came to a stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir Helloise Lumiere is well known for her dedication to her work, and her stubbornness.” guinevere offered a smile. “I’m sure you’ll meet her during the investigation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guinevere was the first to leave, letting the footman help her down from the carriage. Efra followed, ignoring the footman in favor of offering Freia a hand. He grumbled something about being ‘perfectly capable’ under his breath, but still took her hand. Magical healing was best done in short bursts so it wouldn’t strain the body. Freia could walk, but it would take time before he could like he was used to. Varric was last to exit, jumping from the coach with ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wycome Keep was a towering citadel of grey stone and black iron. The painted gate between it and the city was decorated with gold and blue griffons, a bold nod to its grim history with the blight. Wycome’s own crest was in the centre, a simple checkered shield emblazoned with a golden bird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an extravagant display of wealth. Efra didn’t expect anything less. The Duke had a reputation for his lavish displays. That appeared to extend only to his painted city.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man himself dressed quite modestly. His store was well made but simple. It was suited for movement and riding, if the horse behind him was any indication. He was fit and handsome, offering them a casual smile as he handed his horse off to a stable boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lady Guinevere," he greeted. His arms were held wide wide in welcome. "I see you've brought our guests from the Inquisition!" He flashed them a smile as he sauntered towards them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guinevere offered a brief curtsey. "Yes your grace. This is miss Efra Ferron and Freia creed of clan Lavellan, and mister Varric Tethras of Kirkwall."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Duke nodded, his gaze turning to Efra. "A pleasure. I've heard good things from your keeper and the Inquisition. Though, I was under the impression that there would be four of you." He glanced behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Cole is… Particular. He wandered off before we left the docks. Said something about scouting the area. Please excuse his eccentricity, your grace." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a lie of course, but it was a plausible one for a human scout. She hadn't protested when Cole had disappeared for two reasons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One, wrangling a spirit was a hassle. They did what they wanted to when they wanted to and any method of control over them was morally dubious at best. And two, Cole didn't exactly hide his nature. Keeping him away from the keep meant there were fewer people that could expose it. Any man from tevinter would know within minutes what he was. Keeping Cole away meant keeping her ace obscured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Duke raised a brow, but didn't question Cole's absence further. Instead he waved for them to follow him into the main hall. It, like the outside of the keep, was decorated with rich colours, Wycome’s golden songbird plastered on tapestries that lined the walls. The hall was far from empty. It was lined with guardsmen in fitted blue and gold uniforms and past them standing next to a grand staircase was a nobleman and familiar elven face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra’s steps faltered as she approached the tall aging elven woman. Her hair was thin and white cropped short around her face. The warm amber of her eyes followed Efra as she moved forward behind the duke with shakey steps. Though her expression held no anger, Efra couldn’t help the guilt that rose to her throat at the sight of her former Keeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra offered her a short bow, barely more than a nod and dropped her gaze to the ground as the duke introduced them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you are already acquainted with Miss Deshana,” the duke gestured to the Keeper. “And this is my advisor, Lord Reuven Ellison.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord Ellison was a well kept man with sharp features and deep brown hair. The same could be said about most Tevinter men though. There was a trend of vanity that was unmatched in the imperium’s nobility. It dressed them in rich purples and reds, and fitted suits trimmed with silver and gold. Ellison embodied it, exuding the aura of a magister, though Efra doubted he held the status in his homeland.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man offered a curt nod to Efra, ignoring the others completely. His eyes raked over her like a cat stalking prey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I had heard many dalish clans had accomplished mages among their ranks. I did not think clan Lavellan was among them." Ellison hummed, his tone bored. "I'll admit, I am not sure what a dalish clan thinks it can accomplish here with a plague at our doorstep. Do you plan to spell it all away?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cure all spells are nonsense. Besides," Efra rolled her eyes. "Magic is hardly free. How much are you willing to sacrifice to end this plague, Lord Ellison?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever it takes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if it means repeating the tragedy of Kirkwall? That hardly seems appropriate. I don’t think magic is the solution to this problem.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am inclined to agree," The duke cut in. He waved for a servant to come forth. "If you would be so kind as to guide our guests to their rooms."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"May I take my leave as well, your grace?" Deshanna spoke up for the first time, her honey eyes watching Efra like a hawk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra squirmed under her gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The duke let out a non-committal noise, waving for her the do as she pleased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deshana led them with an effortless confidence. Her steps were mindful of the servant ahead of them. She kept pace a few feet behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wide hallway they moved into was just as lavish as the entryway. It was draped in red tapestries and stained orange with the sunset casting itself through tall windows. Efra paused in the shadow between them. Her hand gripped the hilt of the sword on her hip as it could bring her comfort. It didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freia had been quick to usher Varric into their room when they reached it. The knowing look he shot Efra was appreciated, but it didn't save her from the uncomfortable conversation that would take his place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deshanna's voice was soft when she spoke, taking mercy on Efra. "You’re not staying are you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra could hear the sorrow in it despite Deshanna’s efforts to hide it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...” Efra hesitated, letting her hand fall off the hilt of her sword. “I was never going to. I probably wouldn’t have, if Ellie hadn't gone missing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had- When neither she or the Inquisition had answered my letters I had assumed the worst.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t know.” Efra rested her shoulder against the wall. “No one knows so there’s a chance. I’ll be going to Ferelden after the plague is dealt with. I- If there's any chance Ellana is still alive I will do everything in my power to bring her home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra pushed herself off the wall, moving towards the door of her room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deshanna nodded solemnly. “I hope for your success and your safe return, be that back to the clan or to Silverglass. If I may request one thing of you, Efra.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Efra paused, her hand resting on the door knob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t isolate us from your world. My duty will always be to the clan, and you will always be a part of our family, no matter how far from us you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try, Desha.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>it won't be back to regular updates sadly but i hope things will begin updating again as ill be working on this all through nanaowrimo. </p><p>a side note. when i first started my work on wtff i wanted to try to make it its own original story independent of dragon age, and its largely already become that in my primary document. plot, character motivations, and world building diverge a looot especially after this chapter, and I'm really happy and proud of that work. i hope to continue both works, and if anyone is interested in my original work feel free to ask.</p><p>Image: https://www.deviantart.com/levithetitanguy/art/dalish-heraldry-buttercups-841987159</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Overflow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The flickering braziers that lined the main road reflected off glass windows and puddles in the streets as Efra and Cole wandered westward. The quiet of the night was only occasionally breached by the boisterous laughter of drunk men and women on their way home. The painted city looked more whimsical in the evening light. The warm yellow glow of the fire played across every window and copper sculpture that lined the walk to the city's central well. </p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The soft oranges of the guest room greeted Efra as she passed through the wooden door. The amber coloured curtains moved with winter breeze, cold, but not unbearable. The fireplace that rested across from two beds filled the air with the crackle of burning wood. A soft humming from a figure in the window joined it, the melody a tune from her childhood. </p><p>"You shouldn't keep the window open like that," Efra said, dropping her bag on the nearest bed. She let her sword join it on the comforter. </p><p>The figure paused in his humming to look back at her, his face mostly obscured by the large hat he wore.</p><p>"You might not be able to get sick, Cole, but I can."</p><p>"Yes?" He turned back to the window, glancing up at the sky. His hands picked at the worn edges of his sleeves. "It's noisy here."</p><p>"Is it?" Cole didn't react as Efra moved past him, pulling the window shut. "Is it quieter now?"</p><p>"<em>I saw the girl in blue that came to cure the plague. A knife-ear? Won't she just make things worse? </em>" he murmured. "They think we'll make things worse, but we came to help."</p><p>"It doesn't matter if they believe we can help," Efra patted his shoulder, moving back to her bed. "What matters is that we will anyway."</p><p>"Yes, we help stop the hurt." Cole tugged at his fraying sleeves. </p><p>"And that means figuring out the plague." </p><p>Efra had meant it when she'd told Ellison she didn't think magic was the solution. If Varric’s words on the ship ride had told her anything, it was that magic was the opposite of what the city needed. </p><p>Wycome was already paranoid enough. It didn’t need her adding to it. With the war any magic used on the city would feel like an attack. </p><p>Efra pulled a hand through her messy black hair. Varric had been tightlipped about how he knew the red lyrium was in the city, but Efra could read between the lines. He had eyes in the city.</p><p>"You know how to leave the Keep, right?" Efra looked up at Cole.</p><p>The boy looked back, his head tilted slightly to the side. "Yes?"</p><p>"Can you show me? I want to see where this mess started."</p><p>Cole's path led through the kitchen. The servants working there barely noticed as they passed through. Cole's influence probably. Spirits had that effect on people, and Cole seemed especially fond of remaining unseen. His nature was weird, but it wasn't hostile. Instead, his presence provided comfort as they slipped out of the keep and into the stone streets of Wycome.</p><p>The flickering braziers that lined the main road reflected off glass windows and puddles in the streets as Efra and Cole wandered westward. The quiet of the night was only occasionally breached by the boisterous laughter of drunk men and women on their way home. The painted city looked more whimsical in the evening light. The warm yellow glow of the fire played across every window and copper sculpture that lined the walk to the city's central well. </p><p>Cole lingered at the edge of the plaza as well came into view. The circle of stones stood ominously in the middle of the square, a thick wooden board covering it. There was nothing especially remarkable about it from a distance. It was similar to the wells in every other city and small town Efra had been to. Except for the chilling whisper that hung around it.</p><p>The well’s song felt like a noose around her neck, choking and clawing, and pulling fear up from under her skin. She needed to <em> leave. </em></p><p>"Cole," Efra breathed. Her feet were frozen four paces away from the well, her body trembling.</p><p>Her body felt lighter as Cole's hand rested on her back, his voice coming out in the low murmur it always did. </p><p>"<em> They shut the well a week ago. The dalish boy said it caused the sickness. He probably did something </em>. He didn't. He was right. It sings with the song of the dying. It's awful." Cole whispered, pulling at his hat.</p><p>Efra gripped the hilt of her sword before she forced herself forward. A scent of unnatural decay grew stronger as she got closer. Her hand reached for the wooden board. </p><p>"Fear and paranoia. <em> Another fell to the sickness today, Ronnie's kid. And they let more elves into the city? </em>They're wrong, but it's easier to be angry at something than scared of something they don't know." Cole clutched the back of her jacket like a child. "It's not right."</p><p>"The well or the people?" Efra pushed the board, exposing the mouth of the well. A wave of cold greeted her as she looked into the pit of black. </p><p>"Both," Cole tugged at his hat with his free hand. "Some are scared. Some just want an excuse."</p><p>Efra nodded then blew in her palms. A small ball of light formed in her cupped hands. She watched it for a moment before dropping it into the pit and illuminating the depths of the well. </p><p>The ball of light stopped at the water's surface, showing nothing but its own reflection in the water. </p><p>"I don't know what I was expecting," Efra grumbled. She let the light extinguish and pulled the board back over the well.</p><hr/><p>Breakfast was something Efra rarely witnessed. Not because she was fond of sleeping but because she’d usually woken up hours before anyone else. Her usual meal of tea and whatever fruit was closest was long gone by the time everyone emerged. </p><p>Freia was the opposite. Deshanna had all but dragged him out of his and Varric's room, determined to discuss the day’s plan with everyone. She should have known better than to expect Freia to be coherent enough for that. </p><p>He pushed the eggs and bread around his plate only half listening to Deshanna and Varric's discussion about the city. The mug in front of him was already empty, though the bitter tea within it had done little to keep him from dozing off into his hand. </p><p>Deshanna sighed again, watching Freia with a tired look. “You would think your brother would have the sense to sleep early.”</p><p>“He would still sleep till noon, Desha.” Efra looked up from the various papers spread out in front of her maps, and reports about various things. Few were useful and one interested her at the moment. The one that showed the sewers and maintenance tunnels under the city. </p><p>Varric laughed. “I’m not sure he’s even awake.”</p><p>Efra patted Freia on the cheek. “He’s moving, expecting anything more is asking for a miracle.”</p><p>Freia grumbled something incoherent, scowling as his plate. </p><p>Efra pulled the fork from his hand and pushed his plate away from him. Freia slumped on the table in its place, burying his head in his arms. </p><p>“I’ll wake him up when it's time to go,” She ran a hand through his hair, absently putting the mess of curls into some sort of order as she returned her gaze to the pages on the table. </p><p>Deshanna huffed a laugh. “I see nothing has changed between you two. A year of silence and you still act as you did when you were children.”</p><p>“It’s only been a year. Frei knows why I left. He didn’t blame me like Ellana did.”</p><p>“Your sister didn’t blame you. She was scared to be left behind,” Deshanna sipped her tea. “She wanted to go with you.”</p><p>“I doubt it. She hates Silverglass.” Efra scanned the map. </p><p>“She loves you. She would have followed you anyway.” Deshanna hummed. </p><p>“I…” Efra hesitated. “I didn’t want to trap her in a place she’d hate.”</p><p>Deshanna frowned, but didn’t push further. Instead she took another sip of her tea. “I assume you have a plan for the day.”</p><p>“This passage,” Efra tapped a point on the map she was looking at. “Gives access to the waterways beneath Wycome. Frei mentioned the sickness was likely in the water. I want to find the source. You can’t see much from the surface, but if we can get a look at the filter, Frei will be able to figure out if it is a natural plague.”</p><p>“And if it's not?” Varric cleared his throat. </p><p>“I was hoping you could confirm if the Red Lyrium you spoke of is there.” Efra looked at him. “If it's not something you or Frei can identify, it may be something I can. I visited the well last night with Cole. I have little doubt that it started the sickness. I just hope it's something that can be fixed, or at least contained.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>